I am the moldy piece of cheese
I am the rotten piece of meat
I am the blue stuff on the bread
I am the smell of rotten eggs
Refrigerator of your love
I am the chunks of solid milk
I am the lettuce, rotten and wilted
I am the food you did not eat
I am the compost on the heap
In the garden of your love
On the scrap heap of your love
I am the piece of chocolate cake
I am the chicken shaked and baked
I am the stale frosted flake
I am the Rolaids that you take
In attempts to stomach love